Urban Pron: Yellow Fever In Green Harbor (An Urban Reign Story)
by Quillon42
Summary: When Brad Hawk turns his back on a grateful Shun Ying Lee in this alternate Namco reality, the Chinatown czarina doesn't take no for an answer. Imagine the (letdown of an) ending from the PS2 game Urban Reign, mixed in with some intimate adult-film action, mixed in with that sunglasses alleyway brawl scene from John Carpenter's film They Live…and you've got this story.


URBAN PRON: YELLOW FEVER IN GREEN HARBOR (AN URBAN REIGN STORY)

By Quillon42

Even the streetlights seemed to be shining all the more brilliantly since Mayor Bordin was finally brought down. This atmospheric detail had not gone unnoticed by the alligator-jacketed assassin who strode proudly now through these roads, nor by the loud-azure-outfitted lady who ordered him along a century of scraps in sewers, warehouses, and junkyards…all the brawls occurring for the sake of a war of utter urban supremacy.

Now, thanks in no small part to the beatdowns brought on by a man listed on his birth certificate as Bradley Dumfries Hachekovich—the unwieldy surname later Americanized, and known mostly by laid-into hoodlums as Brad Hawk—the town of Green Harbor had settled from the cataclysm of criminality that had plagued it. With the beater-upper's assistance, the community would fall under the guardianship of one Shun Ying Lee, Hawk's sapphire-costumed cohort and the queen of this municipality's Chinatown.

Hawk and Lee alike were at this very moment, in fact, still tromping away most triumphantly from their muffing-up of the man formerly in charge of the city. William Bordin had claimed to be the one who cleansed the town of its grime of crime. As it turned out, though, the magnanimous Mayor had been the one who not purified, but rather putrefied the populace, with the depravity run rampant.

This instant indeed, Lee and Hawk were hoofing it a bit more jauntily, sauntering through the city streets a mite more comfortably now that this wearying war was over. As it turned out, in this reality, unlike the one from the Namcoverse's mainstream ending in which the two emerged from Shun's restaurant, the lady complimenting the man only for the latter to turn and walk away, ever so aloofly…

…in this world, it all went down just a smidge differently.

In particular, here the pair had still been padding their way down an alleyway often frequented by another twosome, brutes usually decked out in blue and bawling about the state of the city. At the moment, though, Shun and Brad were walking down the brick-bordered byway all on their own.

"Your reputation is well-deserved," offered Miss Ying Lee, she giving Mister Hawk a sly look telegraphing an intention to reward the man, one way or another, for his contributions to her cause.

As in the namby-pamby Namcoverse, here Hawk merely turned his back to the woman, implicitly rejecting her and muttering a phrase which balled gamers bluer than the sight of the constrictive threads upon the lovely Lee's curves:

"That's why I don't make any friends."

…

…but in this reality, instead of a bewildered "Huh?" by Shun, she instead said

"HEY!"

and pumped up to the man with her furious, flashy heels, while the man's back still faced her.

"I'm not _looking_ to be just _friends…_"

And then an abrupt flip out of standing position by the alligator asskicker as he a second later faced Shun Ying Lee full-on a meter away, then hunched backward a second, right hand configured into an open fist.

Before the Chinatown regent could react, she felt the heel of Hawk's hand drive into the glistening ring cinching her outfit together, the man pulling the punch at the last instant but the momentum nonetheless shattering the trinket, the lady's costume consequently compromised.

Shocked and reviled by this, Shun said nothing, but merely drew back into a defensive pose, she motioning with curling-back fingertips on the top half of her right hand for Brad to come at her.

As the hired heavy duly complied, she grabbed his left hand, winded him around so he was facing her head-on from the other direction (whisking off his jacket with the deftest of motions in the process), and let fly with an open-fist-thrust of her own that floored him.

"I'm gonna skin more from you than that crocodile crap you've been wearing all this time," seethed Shun as she approached Hawk anew, her cerulean costume beginning to peel from her graceful figure as she went. Then, just as Brad registered her advancing movements, the lady jumped slightly forward, planting her hands down on the ground just in front of her target. Curling up a microsecond, she then sprang into an upwardly-progressing handstand rising kick, both ascending heels raking up and ruining the black Banana-Republican sort of shirt the brawler boasted underneath that reptile pelt his sultry costar just had wrenched from him.

Now wearing only his own skin from the stomach-up, Brad sought feverishly to repay the dame by delivering the same unto her. Charging up, the man let loose with a series of open-handed, lightning-bolted instantaneous blows, all of which consisted once again of pulled punches but also all of which connected, if ever so lightly, with the Lady Lee. Each speedily-unleashed heel-hand either wrecked the fabric upon Shun's shoulders without harming a hair on her fantastic frame…or incidentally copped for just a nanosecond upon the generous golden spheres of flesh contained within that open vertical V of a window of the woman's outfit.

When this mistress of melee emerged from the assault, she found herself as wardrobe-robbed from the waist-up as the street soldier she semi-stripped a second ago. Blushing fully in her billowing-bare-breasted condition, and burning with a fury to fuck up and/or just fuck the Hawk more than ever, the scorned Shun struck out with a lethal, diesel-fueled rage unheralded in the last several tens of trouncings across the girth of Green Harbor.

The Hawk hitched himself up just at the exact moment that the stunning Shunner slid in just adjacent to the man's position, she catching a lower leg of his with one of her own and bringing him down to the ground alongside. As the man struggled in his supine state, the Chinatown Chairwoman lashed out with vicious nails, she reaching for the hired fist's trousers. In a trice, Ying yanked the slacks down to the man's ankles, discovering abruptly that he had proceeded through Green Harbor by way of the same commando style in terms of pants as he did in terms of pugilistics.

At this Brawler Brad kicked off his socks and shoes to become completely naked, because at this point, what the hell. Miss Lee rolled away just in time as her momentous opponent broke into a backspin escape maneuver that propelled him back onto his feet, which as with the rest of his body now wore only flesh and naught else. Shun Ying shucked herself up to face off yet again against this Golem-grappling, Napalm-99-annihilating, McKinzie-mutilating emeffer…

…and then she stopped to double over, pointing and laughing at the Hawk's most intimate talon, it upturned most pronouncedly at the sight of the somewhat-suit-undone Shun.

Now it was Brad's turn to burn bright red. "…Nobody's innocent," was all he could blurt out—his signature initial, uninspired line from this Namco opus's opening monologue.

"…but," he added, now advancing on his alluring adversary with heaving footfalls and a voice addled with amour, "I'm about to be found guilty of a very, _very_ lewd and lascivious offense."

Shun said nothing, but went for an axe kick to Hawk's head just as he reached her. At the exact instant he noted her coiling into such a strike, he ducked down, like the horniest of high school wrestlers, and grabbed the bottom of her other leg. With a randy grunt

[NNNNNNFFFFF]

he hefted upward, lifting the lethal Lee up a foot off the ground—then pulled down in an abrupt shunting motion, the resulting impact

[RRRRRIIIPPPPPP]

rending the remainder of Shun Ying's cobalt costume from her comely curves.

The only apparel still on between the both of them now was the pair of platinum pumps upon the Fujian fraulein's feet. She looked down a second, to note this…

…then back up just in time to take account of the happenstance that

[THRRRFFFFFF]

Hawk had just whisked his hairy hands around her waist, hoisting her fabric-famished form into the air. Before she could begin to lay a clawed hand upon the man's face, he charged forward, engaging in a grapple-dash express with his Chinese combatant in his arms, towards the darkest and most private portion of the alleyway's brick face.

Once he reached that hard surface, the even harder Hawk let loose, hurling Lee against the wall but holding onto her waist just the same, the man repeatedly power-bombing the babe against the bricks as another segment of himself slipped into her stealthily from underneath.

[THRCCRRRACK]

[THRCCRRRACK]

[THRCCRRRACK]

All the while, as the man thrust at Shun Ying both from two limbs above and from one below, his target only grinned, then giggled, then guffawed as she cried out repeatedly.

[THRCCRRRACK]

[THRCCRRRACK]

"_YESSS!"_

[THRCCRRRACK]

[THRCCRRRACK]

"HARDER, HAWK…"

[THRCCRRRACK]

[THRCCRRRACK]

"DO ME JUST LIKE LIN FONG DID…"

[THRCCRRRACK]

[THRCCRRRACK]

And then Brad slowed a fraction of a second, partially from fatigue, partially from his lustmaking-muddled mind trying to place where he'd heard that name recently.

But then his coital cohort clarified it.

[THRCCRRRACK]

…

[THRCCRRRACK]

…

"THAT'S IT!"

[THRCCRRRACK]

…

"_DO ME LIKE MY TWIN BROTHER DID!"_

Flinching a second, the Hawk fixed a frazzled look on the Lee…

…who fully took advantage by flinging up and out of the brick wall foofaraw, she landing only a few feet away from her partner-in-pummel.

Part of her energized from the filling of her SPA (Special Arts) Gauge after all those power-bombs…part of her aching just for the conventional kind of spa, to take away her discomfort…Ying shunned the latter sentiments in favor of the former, snapping herself from a staggered stasis into a killer kinesis. Just as Brad about-faced to note his streetfighting sister's charge, said sibling-in-arms flashed a platinum pump into his cool, calm kisser…then while the man was stunned at face level

[KA, KA, KA, KA, KA, KAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKA…]

Lee belted out with a chorus of low-handed lightning-bolted chops to the, er…abovementioned upswung talon of Brad Hawk, the lady listing this way lithely, then spinning that way spryly as each strike shunted home in the Green Harbor gladiator's most erect of areas.

About twenty or more such strikes in split-secondary succession were enough to lay the bruiser out back-first on the alley floor. Noticing her mark and judging the appropriate trajectory required, another ten seconds Shun shuttled off towards the brick wall closest to Hawk…

…then rattled off an impromptu run-up, she scaling said building face with only her spiked heels, the vixen vertical, she perpendicular to the putz beneath her for all of two seconds…

…then launched herself out into the seedy city airspace, flipping out reversely into the underworld-overrun ether for a tense instant…

…the lady descending another second later, her fine, fully-exposed, utterly-unblemished shapeliness splashing down directly onto the Hawk, the negative terminal of the Double-D'd brawler's Double-A battery locking in perfectly with the positive counterpart of the power-bombing pugilist beneath her as she landed atop him.

She didn't even give him a beat to breathe. With the release longed for by an eons-ambivalent abbess trapped in a bustling bordello, Lee commenced to gallop most erotically atop the grappler, the first half of the tryst

[KA, KA, KA, KA, KA, KAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKA…]

the SPA-saturated siren throwing fist after lightninged fist into Brad's face, the second half

[KA, KA, KA, KA, KA, KAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKA…]

that pair of punishing, blimped-out, beige-nippled knockers cracking open the man's features from the brow to the bridge of the brawler's nose and beyond.

Now, at this juncture, Hawk could carry on with his arrogant impassiveness no more. With the rage of a scandalized, smoldering, Mauser-brandishing Mayor of Green Harbor…

[SQUAAABAAAAAANNNNNGGGGGG]

the fighter fired off that single shot of visceral fluid, of which he was so sure would flatten the female atop his form.

…

And indeed, this was met with a sudden, sharp yelp from Shun Ying as she reared back upon the full-frontal husk of the Hawk, she shuddering a hot second.

…

…

Then, with stunning regularity, the Shun just shuffled off her panting partner, she shrugging nonchalantly as she started off or her own into the night.

"Good boy," she said over her shoulder without looking back as the Hawk, demoted to mere prey over the past few minutes, slithered supplicatingly along the street after her absconding au naturel figure.

EPILOGUE

The two married the morning after.

Over the course of so many more frantic, fierce, fist-laced ordeals of foreplay and fuckwork thereafter, Brad Hawk and the woman who would never consent to becoming Shun Ying Hachekovich had spawned a litter of fearsome fighters-to-be.

Even though happiness was finally found by both brawlers, it would be the case that Bradley Dumfries would suffer a grounding greater than that of the _Gone Girl_ husband at the end of that respective opus:

While his wife continued to commandeer Chinatown (and the entire city by extension), the once-wandering Hawk was hobbled to the function of stay-at-home father—for years to come the man languishing in his skyscraper's master suite, he relegated to the role of looking after legions of Eurasian babies bawling endlessly as they beat the shit out of one another.


End file.
